


Night Sky

by WritinRedhead



Series: Rogue One AUs [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: M/M, Romance, Wild West AU, aka running into a mysterious stranger in a saloon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12091668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritinRedhead/pseuds/WritinRedhead
Summary: Wild West AU - Cassian Andor had come to drink. To drink and forget. Not strike up a conversation with a chatty stranger.





	Night Sky

**Author's Note:**

> For [ SassySnowperson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson)

The noise that filled the smoky saloon died down for a moment as the doors swung open and many eyes lifted from the tables and games of cards to turn toward the newcomer.

Pulling off his hat, Cassian held a few of the too curious glances, then ducked his head and moved towards the bar, signalling the crowd he had no interest in their sorry lives and they could full well return the favor and stay the fuck out of his. The bartender acknowledged his arrival with a grunt and Cassian ordered a glass of whatever the house had to offer. It just needed to be high-proof.

He left the bartender a few coins, not caring if he overpaid, and together with his drink retreated to a corner table in the back of the saloon. The lighting there was even dimmer than in the rest of the establishment and the sound of the singer by the bar was a mere background noise over the raucous laughter caused by crude frontier humor and cheap moonshine.

Speaking of which, Cassian took a large gulp. It didn’t taste of much, but it burned down this throat like fire.

“That stuff’ll make you go blind. Or worse.”

Surprised the voice seemed to mean him, Cassian looked up. Huh. He wasn’t alone at the table. It had been dark enough that he hadn’t noticed the hooded figure one seat away from him, back leaned against the wall.

Ignoring the speaker, Cassian took another swig. The burn wasn’t any lesser than the first time. But he’d come to drink, not worry about his health. If this was his last drink, so be it. At least he wouldn’t feel much.

“I wasn’t kidding.”

What a persistent bother.

“And how do you know?” Cassian asked back.

“I know the guy the barman got it from. Well, knew.” The hooded figure shrugged and moved closer to the table, taking the seat next to Cassian. “He has no troubles left now.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure what made the stranger want to strike up a conversation with him, last time he’d checked his body language had been clear. Stay away. But for some reason he found himself playing along and responded, “Is that so.”

The figure shifted and the hood fell back, revealing a young man much different from whoever Cassian had expected.

The unsteady light from the saloon’s center flickered across his face, giving his tan skin a golden hue. The dark, near black hair was longer than practical for a life out here, but seemed well-maintained and Cassian wondered whether it was as soft as it looked. A pair of big eyes curiously took in Cassian’s reaction to the reveal and when they met his, he felt oddly caught. He quickly resumed staring at his glass.

“It is,” the man said and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out a flask. First taking a sip himself, he offered it to Cassian. “Here. This is better, promise.”

Cassian watched the outstretched hand. At least it wasn’t spiked with anything. Less wary than he maybe should be, Cassian took the flask, his hand brushing against the stranger’s. It was surprisingly warm.

The drink drink too, felt warm. Not burning like the hooch before him, but leaving him with a tingly feeling, heating up his cold fingers.

“It’s good,” he acknowledged.

The man nodded, apparently satisfied, and took back the flask. He coked his head at Cassian. “Do you mind me asking who I’m sharing a drink with?”

“Andor,” Cassian said curtly.

Screw it. There’s nothing left to lose.

“Cassian,” he said. “My name’s Cassian.”

“Nice to meet you, Cassian.” The stranger seemed to think for a moment. “Call me Bo then,” he said and flashed Cassian a bright smile.

It had been a long time since anyone had smiled at him. Honestly. Without it twisting into a sneer or being accompanied by a loaded gun pointing at him. This was genuine and it caused something to twist inside Cassian’s stomach. Maybe it was just the alcohol though.

“And what brings you here, Cassian Andor? This town is so far out, no one ever comes here just by chance.”

Cassian glanced at his chest pocket. The small bump under his jacket was the only thing giving him away. He pulled his jacket closed, hiding the papers identifying him as a duly sworn warrant officer. He felt the sudden urge to burn them.

“I’m looking for a job. Or running away from the last. Maybe a bit of both, who knows.” Cassian raised his glass again. He shook his head before bringing it to his lips. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

He was here to drink. To forget.

When he set the glass down again, it was moved out of his reach.

“Alcohol won’t help, you know.” It sounded nearly like an answer to his thoughts.

Who exactly was this man, Cassian wondered, but instead asked, “What does help then?”

“Company.” The stranger,  _Bo_ , looked at him confidently. “Company helps against loneliness.”

He reached for Cassian’s hand and to his own surprise, Cassian didn’t pull away. Just like his hand, the touch was warm and unusually soft. It was comforting, even though Cassian didn’t know why he’d need comfort. Or deserve it.

“Who said I was lonely?”

“You didn’t have to.” Bo looked at Cassian as if he could see straight through the facade that had taken Cassian years to build. Then his dark eyes shifted and moved toward the doors. “It’s a bit loud in here, don’t you think?”

Realizing he’d passed the stage of hesitation, Cassian simply nodded.

The planks of the porch creaked quietly as they stepped outside, the noise of the saloon staying behind. Cassian followed when Bo went down the three small steps to leave the covered porch and stand in the open.

“I’ve traveled a lot and wherever I go it looks different. Just the stars, they stay the same and they’re always with me.”

Bo looked up at the night sky in awe. His hair fell over his back and seemed much longer than while still inside.

Cassian stepped closer, also feeling transfixed although not by the lights in the sky above. “You’re a fascinating man, Bo,” he heard himself say.

Bo’s head snapped back and he turned to Cassian, suddenly much closer than Cassian remembered coming. His face close enough to make out the amused twitch at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

Then, as the dim light seeping out of the saloon was swallowed by the moon appearing from behind a single cloud, Bo kissed him.

His hand wound up cradling Cassian’s face, gently coaxing him down for a better angle of the kiss, and Cassian went along willingly. It was all so surreal and real at the same time that he thought if this was a dream, he might as well experience it to the full. Bo’s body felt warm against his in the chilly air and he pressed closer, overcome with a craving for touch he hadn’t felt for a long time. He trailed his hand up Bo’s side, pleased to hear the hum he got in response. It was accompanied by a nip on Cassian’s bottom lip and the small groan that followed was possibly his own. He buried his other hand in the dark hair and the strands gliding through his fingers were as soft as he’d imagined. Time could stop right now and Cassian wouldn’t mind.

But as all dreams go, they end when you wake up.

Bo sighed. “I have to go now,” he said quietly against Cassian’s lips and before Cassian could really comprehend the words, he’d already left the embrace with a last brush of warm fingers over cold skin.

“Hey,” Cassian called after him. “Am I gonna see you again?”

“Don’t worry,” Bo assured, anticipation in his voice. “We’ll meet again.”

Then he slipped into the night and was gone. Where his head had been there was a yellowed and tattered poster pinned to the saloon’s porch column.

_WANTED. Dead or Alive. Bodhi Rook. $5.000 Reward._

Cassian threw his head back and laughed. Without looking back, he stepped into the darkness himself.

“I’m looking forward to it.  _Bodhi_.” 


End file.
